Page 51 of The Cornish Bride

Chapter Twenty-Three

Sam was glad of the desk between him and Kit. It gave him something to hold on to, which he was much in need of doing. He gripped its edge with both hands until his knuckles whitened. What had Kit just asked him? What did he want him to do?

“So you see,” Kit said, shifting awkwardly in his seat, probably as discomfited by what he was asking as Sam was at being asked. “Morvoren thought this would be a solution that would be, er, agreeable to all parties. I’ve been thinking about it for a few days, and I’ve come to the conclusion that she’s right. She usually is.”

Sam swallowed, struggling to find his voice but aware that an answer was required. “And does Ysella agree to this?” he finally managed to croak.

Kit nodded. “She has learned her lesson and will do as she’s told where choosing a suitable husband is concerned. She told Morvoren she has no desire to remain an old maid in my house and I’m certainly in agreement with that. She might one day lead any daughters Morvoren gives me astray.”

Sam almost smiled at the thought of Ysella becoming the sort of maiden aunt who led her nieces into scrapes, only the gravity of the matter preventing him. “But does she want to marry… me?”

Kit nodded. “The far more important question, my friend, is do you want to marry her?” He rubbed the side of his nose. “You are aware of both her misfortune and her foolish mistake. You know what she has done. She cannot return to Town to continue the season for she might be with child and her reputation will be shot. I can only hope no whisper of what she’s done reaches the arbiters of the ton, but I fear it might, despite your threats to Featherstone. She would risk being shunned. Her only hope is to be married forthwith to someone for whom her foolish behavior doesn’t matter.”

For a moment Sam bristled at Kit’s casual assumption that Ysella’s possible condition wouldn’t matter to him. He was taking for granted that because Sam was just his land agent, his estate manager, marrying her and acting father to a possible bastard wouldn’t be a problem. Well, would it?

He frowned down at his hands and deliberately loosened their grip on the desk. It seemed his secret dream might be about to come true. But did he want it to happen in this way? Ysella didn’t love him as a husband wanted to be loved, as he wanted to be loved, of that he was certain. She saw him as a friend only, a dear and familiar friend, but a friend her brother had seized upon to do her the ultimate in favors. Was this fair for either of them? He wanted to love her as a wife. She needed the seal of marriage on her misdemeanors.

Should he seize this opportunity and see it as a way to get what he’d so long wanted? Ysella herself. Could he turn her down if no love came with the deal? Was he man enough to take what was offered, or was that being cowardly and venal?

“If you don’t take her,” Kit said, “and she is with child, I don’t know what we’ll do.”

Unfair of Kit to put such pressure on. It wasn’t him being asked to play father to another man’s child. But then, she might not be with child at all. He had no idea of the likelihood of that, but he presumed it must be low. And she would be his, even if it were only to admire and love from afar. She’d still be his, and no man would be able to take her away from him. Ever. He came back again to the conundrum of whether he could live with knowing she didn’t love him. Already, in his heart, he knew he couldn’t do to her what Featherstone had done, not unless she loved him and wanted it. And surely that day would never come. He was just Sam, her old friend, not handsome like the dashing captain. He might love and worship her, but she would never love him.

He swallowed. The one thing he could do, though, was keep her safe far better than Featherstone would have been able to. He could give her the stability she needed, and if necessary, he could give her child a name.

“I’ll do it,” Sam said, the thought that he might be making the biggest and most costly mistake of his life surfacing as he said the words. “I’ll marry her.”

Kit got to his feet. “Good man.” He held out his hand and Sam took it. “Congratulations. I’m away to send James with a letter to the bishop requesting a Common License. With that, you can be married as soon as next week. Oh, and Morvoren asked if you could go upstairs and see her if you agreed to her plan.” And he departed.

Sam stayed seated, more than a little stunned by what had just happened to him. Had he dreamed it? Or had the one thing he’d thought unattainable actually happened? He pulled out the large bottom drawer of his desk and poured himself a large shot of whisky from the bottle he kept there. Its fiery strength burning a track down his throat convinced him he wasn’t dreaming.

Kit hadn’t actually said Ysella wanted to marry him, though. He’d said she’d do as she was told. The thought that she might be being forced into this surfaced and his stomach twisted. He couldn’t bear to be the cause of more unhappiness. He needed to speak to her. But he’d speak to Morvoren first—she always had sensible ideas and opinions.

He found Morvoren reclining on the chaise longue in her bedroom, where she could look out of the window across the park. She wore a pretty pink peignoir and a warm plaid blanket covered her legs. When he came in, she laid the book she’d been reading in her lap and looked up at him with a commiseratory smile. “Sam, fetch that chair and come and sit beside me.”

He did as he was bid. “I can see you’ve guessed why I’m here.”

She nodded. “I’ve been expecting you.”

“So you thought I’d agree to your plan?”

She nodded again. “I knew you would.”

He fiddled with the edge of his waistcoat, rubbing it between his fingers. “Am I that transparent?”

This time she smiled, a compassionate glow in her eyes. “I’m afraid you are. At least to me.”

He looked down at his hands. “How long have you known?”

“Since the first time I saw you with Ysella.”

He digested this piece of information, his cheeks glowing like beacons. “And so you thought I’d be happy to get her by any means.”

She shook her head. “No. That wasn’t why I suggested this. I gave Kit the idea because I think you are the right man for Ysella. She has no need of a title, nor even to marry a rich man. And she doesn’t possess the common sense to pick a man for herself, as she’s proved.”

“That doesn’t mean she’ll be happy with me.”

Morvoren smiled again. “I think she will be, Sam, if you take everything gently. Marry her to give her respectability, but then woo her. She sees you as a friend, a man she’s known since she was a child. Allow her to see you as a man who loves her, and she’ll come to love you in return. I’m sure of it. When she realizes you love her in that way, which might take a while, so you’ll have to be patient, love will grow between you. Mark my words.”